Bellum, Infernis
by The Projective Otaku
Summary: The Muskovian Empire is on Fiore's doorstep. How will the exposed town of Magnolia, and at length, the Wizard Guild of Fairy Tail, react when an army rages across the river? Their friend, the S-Class battlemage Abraham Douglas leaves Fairy Tail in order to protect them. Will tragedy befall them in the fires of war?


**Bellum, Infernis**

**By The Projective Otaku**

**Chapter 1**

**The Flames of War Loom**

Everything settled down after the Battle of Fairy Tail. Luxis said his goodbyes and departed. The Thunder Legion started to interact with everyone and was far less aloof now. Everything just about got back to normal. Lucy was helping Natsu change the bandages on his arms, Gray was ignoring Juvia, and Erza was talking quietly with Mira. A very normal day for the Strongest Team in Fairy Tail.

The wizard burst into the guild hall. He stumbled in, on the verge of collapse, His chest heaving, his clothes dirty and his hair disheveled. Master Makorov hopped down from his perch on the bar, approaching the young man, now supported by Macao and Wakaba. Lucy had never seen him before, so she surmised that he was one of Fairy Tails overworking wizards, those who ever only came to the guild hall to get another job.

"What is it my boy? What's the matter?" Master Makarov said when he reached the mage. The team, being the closest to the commotion, gathered around while the rest of the Hall drank and carried on.

"They're here!" He screamed, or at least tried to scream, he was still heaving and panting. Now Lucy could see that it was not only from exertion but also from a state of near panic.

"Well spit it out man!" Natsu said, in his usual loud overtone.

"The Muskovians! They landed at Azalea, Gramps, a whole army of them!" the mage said. Everyone in the Hall froze at that. All conversation completely stopped, everybody stopped drinking, even Cana. Master Makarov seemed just as astounded and shocked as the rest of the guild.

Lucy was the one to break the silence. "Who?" she asked, completely bewildered by everyone's reaction. A tinkling came from the back of the Hall. Lucy looked back to find the source of the noise, as it was the only answer to her question. In the corner she saw a man, thick with muscle at the shoulders and waist alike. He wore a simple red wool tunic that came down to his knees, a thick sword belt at his waist, and a short, strait blade sheathed at his side. The tinkling noise came from him draining the last bits of scotch from a crystal glass. When he was finished, He pushed his chair back and got up, sounding like thunder in the quiet and cavernous guild hall.

"The Muskovians are a people of the Steppes, on the very eastern end of the Western Continent." He said, collecting a hardbound book he had been reading and leaving a few Jewel coin on the table as his fair. "They have conquered almost the entire continent, except for a few holdouts in the south and the Isles farther out to sea. The King's isolationist policies have kept word of them from spreading, only small groups, like Wizard Guilds, who go beyond Fiore's borders on occasion have heard of them." At this point he began to pass the group by the door on the way out.

"And where might you be going, Abraham?" Master Makorov asked, stepping in front of the imposing figure. Abraham stopped and looked down at the Master. His eyes seemed pained somehow.

"You know I keep a retinue, Master. I'm a battlemage, a wizard of war and battle, I go to fight for my country." He replied, his disinterested monotone falling into something far darker, not anger, but a deep seriousness, adding an immense gravity to whatever he said.

"And you know the laws of the guild, you cannot interfere in the wars of men. It is a fundamental part of Fairy Tail that has allowed us to weather conflicts in the past." the Master said

"You haven't seen what they do in war, have you?" He asked Master Makarov "The last war Fiore fought in was seventy five years ago, and wasn't waged inside our borders. When those soldiers march over that hill, they will not spare Magnolia, or Fairy Tail, it's wrath. The Muskovians centralize all magic, and part of that is killing any and all independent wizards in their path." Abraham said, the Master looking at him in shock. The Magic Council had made an agreement with the standing governments centuries ago that Guilds and wizards in general were to remain neutral, not interfering in wars and not being exposed to their horrors.

When the Master remained quiet, Abraham went on, "Do you want to see Erza dead on the ground?" He said, gesturing to the woman in question. "How about Natsu, huh?" he was getting angry now, "How about his body, run through with a lance?!" He realized that his voice was rising, and he took a deep breath, straitening out an imagined wrinkle in his tunic. "I resign as a member of Fairy Tail." he said quietly, almost under his breath, his eyes closed. He kept them closed for a few moments, and when he opened them up again they were as hard and cold as steel. "I suggest that you begin evacuating the town. I only have one century, but we should be able to buy you enough time to evacuate." He said, his head turned toward the open door, and left.

The Master seemed close to tears, the strong façade he had shown to the battlemage Abraham falling into rubble at his feet. He looked down shaking his head. Erza saw his pain at loosing another child, even if not by blood, so soon after Luxis' departure. She took charge of the situation. She began gesturing about, ordering and organizing Fairy Tail to evacuate the town of Magnolia in the face of the oncoming juggernaut.

Everyone followed her lead, not quite believing that the monster of war, something they had only read about in books, heard of in tails of far away lands, was forcing them from their homes.

* * *

Abraham made his way on horseback up the face of North Hill. Upon the south face of the hill lie his château, his castle, a small fortress by the name of Lookout. When he reached the gates of Fort Lookout, he found that his men, all eighty of them, were assembled, preparing their Marian mules for the march, their freshly polished _Lorica Segmentata _armor shone in the sun, still at it's peak at one past noon. As the gates opened a man approached him, in the same armor as the other soldiers, except the crest on his helm ran from side to side instead of front to back.

The man saluted, beating his right hand to his left breast with such force that it nearly made Abraham wince "The men are ready for your orders sir!" he said

"Thank you, Centurion Marcus." Abraham replied, viewing them as they formed up in a square eight men wide and ten men deep. They stood as if they were made of stone, there huge rectangular _Scutum _shields created an impressive wall of red and gold. Abraham sighed, it was a sad sigh, as today he would send some of these proud soldiers to their death. "We will act as a rear guard, Centurion, and allow the civilians to escape."

"Yes sir." The centurion said, delivering another salute before moving to give marching orders to the rest of the men assembled. He had expected as much, it was the logical choice, as it would be the only way any civilians would hope to escape. He was also a professional soldier, spending twenty three years as a man-at-arms in the Fiore Army before he was 'retired' due to the kings isolationist and 'progressive' policies downsizing the military. He had been lucky to get a stint here. Magnolia had hot food, cold drinks, and warm women, as much as any soldier could ask for. As a professional, he knew that standing as a rear guard of less than a hundred men against what would probably turn out to be a thousand man battalion of hardened veterans, that many, if not all of his men, would surly die. Including him and the Commander.

Abraham was still straddled on his charger, Marius, as Centurion Marcus moved the men into marching order of four abreast and twenty deep. Needless to say, he was melancholy, but he was also determined. His men were soldiers, warriors of the highest caliber, ready to give their lives in defense of their homes and honour. It was just hard to ask that of them. He was lost in his thoughts when someone saw a blue blur in the sky, heading straight for the castle. The men assumed _testudo_ formation, raising their shields over their heads.

"Get down, sir!" Centurion Marcus yelled. His commander must be insane, he was jus sitting on his horse, looking at it. We were at war now dammit! Everything should be treated as hostile until proven otherwise.

The blue object pulled out of it's steep dive just before hitting the ground. Sliding down the horse's neck and coming to a stop at the saddle pommel.

"Hello Happy, what can I do for you today?" Abraham said, a small smile creasing his face. Happy really lived up to his name, Abraham always liked playing with Happy when no one was watching, for the sake of his serious persona.

Happy's wings receded and the cat took a moment to catch his breath. "The evacuation..." huff, puff "...is underway..." Huff,puff "...most of the guild is guarding the townspeople..." whoof, one last deep breath "...but Erza and the others are staying behind, they're gonna set up on the road leading around North Hill, they'll signal your when they are far enough away so that you guys can get out." Happy said, innocently and wholeheartedly, not believing that any of his friends could die.

"Thank you, Happy." Abraham said, what could possibly be a tear running down his cheek. "Tell them I said thanks."

"Aye, aye." The tiny being said, before re-summoning his wings and flying west, in the direction of the evacuees.

"Centurion, are the men ready to move out yet?" Abraham asked as he dismounted.

"Yes sir." He replied, still mentally cursing that demented cat for making him look jumpy.

"Very well." Abraham said, as he requiped into his 'Greek' armor. Erza had taught him how to requip armor in exchange for teaching her several different types of swordplay. "Let's get going then." He said, marching out with his men, leaving Marius to be evacuated with the castle staff. He didn't even look back at what had been his home for nearly five years.

* * *

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